


Pizza Frisbee

by shinytoymercenaries



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-15 15:33:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5790958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinytoymercenaries/pseuds/shinytoymercenaries
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You wanna go throw it around?”</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“Throw it around, Simmons. The pizza dough?”</p>
<p>“Throw it like what, a football?”</p>
<p>“No, like a frisbee, dumbass.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pizza Frisbee

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ashaleighmarie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashaleighmarie/gifts).



> Based on the story told to me by my best friend who works at a pizza place. Purely just a distraction from stuff I should be writing lol.

Dexter Grif rested on the counter top, leaning over it with his large stomach pressed against the side and his chin in his hands. A lit but dwindling cigarette rested in the corner of his mouth, and his face was seemingly stuck in an expression of permanent boredom. Really, he probably (definitely) shouldn't be smoking inside the pizzeria but Sarge was off doing something and Mr. Employee of the Month - Donut was too occupied with training the new hire on the cashier to pay him any attention.

The new hire hadn't been here that long; not long enough anyhow to know the ropes but long enough that everyone had riffed on him about his name being Richard Simmons. The guy preferred to go by a nickname anyhow but Sarge had gotten everyone use to a last-name basis. The old man had been in the military some time ago and some things, Grif supposed, never really changed.

“Grif, you're not supposed to be smoking in here!” Donut exclaimed suddenly, tone incredulous as he rested his hands on his hips after coming around the counter with the new hire in tow, “What would the customers think?” At least Donut was extremely good natured so it was practically impossible to ‘hate’ the guy...didn't stop him from being annoying though.

“Uh, that it's been a long week?” Grif supplied sarcastically as he went to snub out the remainder of the cigarette in his secret, Sarge-doesn't-know-about ashtray.

“It's only Monday.” Simmons chimed in, eyebrow raised in slight confusion. Although he stood behind Donut, he was a good bit taller than the well-coiffed employee, and Grif too. 

Grif rolled his eyes but he also felt the need to laugh...just a little...on the inside. He normally would have had a ready retort for that kind of comment but let it blow over. Simmons was annoying like everybody else and Grif had only written him off initially due to the fact that he ass-kissed Sarge at every chance, but when it was just the two of them...things could actually be entertaining. Things hadn't gone too far but Grif was pleased where things were right now anyways.

Eventually Donut went to do something, unload a truck maybe? Grif wasn't really listening; more focused on getting another cigarette in before anyone came back…

“So, are you gonna teach me anything or are we gonna stand here all day?”

“You can stand all day, Simmons. I'll be taking a nap.”

“Grif, you can't nap at work!”

“I have before and I will do it again, Simmons. It's like art.”

“Ugh oh my god, just show me how to roll the dough already.”

The process was a little...challenging. Most places usually didn't let new hires learn this until they were trained thoroughly on other tasks. Simmons was smart though, unbelievably smart, and he caught onto to everything else so quickly that Sarge put Grif in charge of showing him dough today.

The pizzeria was small, a hole in the wall business, so the two were fairly cramped in the back. Grif couldn't resist poking fun at Simmons as they went, earning himself an irate comment about ‘being a fatass and taking up all the room’. Names like that didn't bother Grif if only because Sarge used them all the time...and Simmons, unlike Sarge, was actually just joking. Or flirting. Yep, they were doing the flirting thing, Grif decided as they playfully shoved each other with the sides of their hips as they stood at the table, laughing under their breath about stupid jokes.

Once the rolling and flipping of the dough was done, Grif popped the plain dough into the oven and they waited. As they did, a bit of conversation passed between them; nothing too important though, just some likes and dislikes and more get to know you stuff...the kind of shit Grif would have preferred to talk about in bed or in his car in the comfort of some shady trees. Add a good two hours of making out or fooling around and you had yourself the perfect afternoon. Plus a thing of Oreos, those were important.

The timer dinged and brought the Hawaiian of his fantasy land, grabbing the dough from the oven and setting it back on the prep table to cool down.

“Well?” Simmons asked after a minute or two, nowhere near enough time for the dough to be cool. He was always so eager to know if he'd done something right.

“Well,” Grif mimicked back, “It sucks.”

Simmons looked at him blankly, “Is that for real or are you just saying that to be an asshole?”

“No, it just really sucks. I mean, it's not the absolute worst but it's not great. This part over here isn't cooked all the way through and yes Simmons, that is because of the way you did it. And this part,” Grif paused to smash a large, tan finger against the dough which crackled beneath his touch, “is burnt as fuck.”

Simmons made a noise of disapproval low in his throat, almost like a grunt. He hated not being the best at something if only because he strove to be that way. He especially didn't like the fact that Grif was grinning at him like some kind of jackass right now. Yeah the Hawaiian guy in front of him wasn't the type he'd normally go for it if only because he didn't really have a type per se. He'd always figured the person and their emotional connection mattered more than anything else; it was logical, it made sense. What didn't make sense was why Grif was still smiling at him in that stupid attractive way.

“You wanna go throw it around?”

“What?” Simmons asked, scrunching his face in confusion with that same tone of incredulity. He'd been prepared for Grif’s stupid comeback but not...whatever the hell that was.

“Throw it around, Simmons. The pizza dough?”

“Throw it like what, a football?”

“No, like a frisbee, dumbass.”

“Oh really? You doing something physical? That I want to see.”

“Take a good look then.” Grif quipped playfully, giving Simmons a middle finger over his shoulder as the two of them headed out towards back. 

Simmons scoffed and rolled his eyes but said nothing. He checked his watch out of habit, realizing it was actually time for him to clock out and head home. Still, he really wanted to hang around with Grif some more he decided as he clocked out and followed the Hawaiian man outside.

The back of the place was where they parked their delivery cars; today had been slow so only Sarge’s truck and Lopez's car were gone. Who the hell knew where Donut went and frankly, Grif didn't care. It was just him and Simmons...like it should be.

“Okay,” Simmons started, wiping the remainder of the flour dough on his hands on his pants, “there's no way that thing is gonna fly like a frisbee.”

“Oh it'll fly. Me and this other guy who used to work here did this all the time. It's basically the new Grifball.” Grif explained, aptly chucking the rejected dough towards Simmons; ‘Grifball’ was Sarge’s preferred sport and just involved chucking whatever the man could find in Grif’s direction. Amazingly, the thing actually flew decently and got some good distance before Simmons caught it; the man desperately trying to make sure he didn't drop or rip a hole in it. It sure as hell wouldn't fly with a giant ass hole.

“This is so stupid,” Simmons mutters to himself as he tossed the dough back, a limp wristed toss sent the dough on a downward path towards the ground. Grif didn't bother to try and catch it before it hit the ground; obviously the man wasn't going to go out of his way to have a good time. Thankfully it was unharmed and Grif tossed it back. It was dumb, mindless fun, something to keep their hands busy on this slow day.

And of course, all good things eventually got ruined by Sarge.

Without any kind of caution, Sarge’s red pickup truck came barreling in across the gravel pathway before coming to an abrupt halt. Grif actually frowned at that a bit, catching the dough effortless as he did so; Sarge really needed to take it easy on those brakes or he was gonna lose them prematurely. Grif liked working with food, don't get him wrong, but if he had the choice, he definitely would rather be working on cars. But that was also in the heat…and outside...and not worth it.

Grif stared blankly as Sarge exited the truck, almost wishing he'd gotten that cigarette from earlier and lit it. Anything to piss off Sarge.

“What in Sam Hill are you two idiots doing?” the man, although on the short side and graying, was still as fierce as ever; his words harsh and interrogative like always, almost as if the man had them under gun.

Grif rolled his eyes and threw the dough back towards Simmons as if to prove a point only Simmons wasn't exactly paying attention.

“I'm clocked out!” Simmons managed, nearly tripping over his words just as the dough sailed and smacked into the side of his face.

Grif busted out laughing as Simmons grimaced, causing Sarge to turn his attention the Hawaiian man. 

“And what about you?”

Grif shrugged.

“Get back inside, numbnuts.” Sarge ordered, narrowing his eyes before striding off towards the back door.

Grif rolled his eyes yet again but cast another glimpse at Simmons...who was currently trying to get the gooey parts of the dough off of his face. It was pretty funny still, and pretty cute despite the fact that Simmons was cursing under his breath.

Oh well...it had been fun while it lasted.


End file.
